


Fa-shun Design

by ninjamming



Category: Coronation Street
Genre: Crack, F/F, comedically OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 22:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13421112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjamming/pseuds/ninjamming
Summary: As they're packing up Kate's things to move out of Alya's flat, Rana comes to a startling realisation about Kate.





	Fa-shun Design

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for the title. And this fic.
> 
> (not really)

In the middle of packing up Kate’s clothes into boxes - ready to move out of Alya’s flat into Johnny’s - Rana suddenly gasped. ‘ _Kate_ ,’ came Rana's voice from within the wardrobe; the strained tone caught Kate's attention immediately and she looked up. Rana wasn't in obvious peril or pain it seemed, but nonetheless there was an expression of extreme distress on her face.

‘What's the matter?’ asked Kate warily, standing up and walking to Rana's side. She still couldn't see what was upsetting Rana: it was just her collection of jackets and shirts. There might have been a bit too much denim in there, but that just came with the territory of being a lesbian, probably. It was pretty much her uniform.

‘Oh my God. I had no idea it was this bad,’ Rana whispered, bowing her head. She shut her eyes, putting a hand to her brow, as though trying to gather herself together and gather strength from a higher being.

Kate stared at her, wondering what the hell was going on with her girlfriend. Rana should really try out for AmDram sometime. ‘Uh… Rana, do you fancy explaining what's going on any time soon?’

‘This!’ Rana jabbed her finger into the mess of hanging coats - quickly, like the fur might suddenly transform into an animal and bite her hand off if she wasn't careful. ‘Your clothes!’

‘What about them?”

‘I mean, I've always known you had a few hideous pieces, but I never clocked that you had _this_ many stashed away!’ She tugged at one particular sleeveless furry coat - which Kate specifically remembered wearing to visit Rana at the surgery one day - and made a face. ‘Oh, God, Kate. Sweetheart, no.’

An expectant silence followed. Kate just bit her lip and blinked a few times, trying to process the comments that had been made and the blow to her ego. ‘Rana,’ she began, ‘I know my clothes ain't to everyone's taste but you gotta admit that was rude - oh, stop,’ she said irritably, as Rana tugged one particular blue monstrosity out of the wardrobe and held it up with an over-dramatic gasp. ‘What's wrong with that one?’

‘What's _right_ with it?’ Rana shook her head, examining the garment gingerly, in the same way she might have examined a particularly nasty injury on a patient. ‘Where did you even find this? The bins outside the Bistro? Did the Cookie Monster vomit on you?’

‘Bloody cheek!’ Kate snatched it off her and delicately replaced it in the wardrobe, making sure not to damage it. ‘If you're gonna be like this, maybe I’ll go ask Soph to help me pack up instead of you.’

‘Uh-uh. I’ve seen Soph’s clothes, and sometimes she’s as bad as you.’

‘Since when did you become the fashion icon of the street, eh?’

‘I’m not,’ said Rana. ‘But I do have _eyes_ , babe.’

‘Oh, shut up.’

‘And anyway,’ she went on, ‘you know what I always say: if you’ve got it, flaunt it. And you definitely have got it, so don’t cover it up in several layers of denim and fur.’

‘God, have I done something to hurt your feelings? Did I forget your birthday or some other important date? Because I’m not seeing why I’m copping all this abuse otherwise.’

‘Aw, babe.’ Rana stepped forward and put her hands on Kate's hips; she kissed the pout forming on her mouth. She did not receive a kiss in return. ‘I'm not trying to be mean. But you've got to admit it's a _little_ bit excessive. You've got at least three or four of those coats in there, and I'm honestly worried one of them is a stray animal that got in there and died.’

Okay, that was a _little_ bit funny, but no way was she going to let Rana know it. Kate stubbornly tried to keep her eyes averted. Rana stepped into her line of sight, poking at her sides until she squirmed away from the ticklish touch. ‘Don't be ma- _ad_ , grumpy,’ Rana sing-songed, with that annoying, teasing smile on her lips. She loved to wind people up, as Kate was rapidly finding out over the past few months. ‘You know I'm right.’

‘Nope,’ replied Kate, with narrowed eyes, ‘what _you_ are is a bitch.’

Rana gasped. ‘You take that back!’

‘No. Not until you apologise to Margaret.’

She could have sworn Rana’s eye twitched.

‘Sweetheart, please tell me you didn't _name_ this thing,’ she said slowly.

Kate paused for maximum effect, seeing Rana’s horrified expression solidifying and her jaw slackening. And then she grinned. ‘No I didn’t,’ Kate admitted, ‘but had you going there for a second, didn't I?’ It was worth Rana's glare, and the little thump she got on the arm.

‘Thank _God_ , I was about to call the police. Although I’m not sure whether they’d arrest you, or Margaret, because that coat is a crime against humanity.’

‘You realise I’ve been wearing these coats for months now, right? Why are you only bringing it up now?’

‘Sorry, I was a bit too busy conducting a secret affair with you to really care much about what you were wearing. I was mostly interested in what was _under_ all those ugly clothes, anyway,’ she added with a flirtatious wink. Kate rolled her eyes in response.

‘You’re making a lot of jokes for someone I’ve _definitely_ seen wearing a faux-fur jacket on more one occasion.’

‘Yeah, but I own _other_ items of clothing too, besides “Margaret”,’ she reminded Kate.

‘Can we stop pretending my coat has a name now?’

‘Only if I can burn her.’

‘... You’ve never sounded more like a serial killer than that moment, Rana.’

‘Aw,’ Rana cooed. She kissed Kate again, who was slightly more willing to return it this time (although still pretty miffed at being called a scruffbag). ‘In this instance, I’m definitely taking that as a compliment.’


End file.
